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Huntley," said her old neighbour, Mrs. Craddock; "Have you heard the news? Ah! these are sad times bad people going " "True, true!" replied poor Grace as she hurried onwards; "I know I heard it all." Mrs. Craddock looked after her, much surprised at her abruptness.
"Maybe Craddock ain't no saint and angel, but he makes business in this town," said Gray. "Makes business!" the undertaker echoed, with abstraction and looking far away as if he already saw the train of oncoming, independent, self-burying pioneers over against the horizon.
The citizens who were making a weak defense were being driven back, the sound of firing was behind the stores, and falling off as if the raiders pressed them hard. Morgan quickly concluded that Craddock and the rest of the outfit were over there silencing this resistance, probably in the belief that he was concerned in it.
If there had been a dozen pubs on the road, I'd have drunk every one of em dry today. I never felt such a daddy of a thirst on me before." "Good gracious, Julius!" exclaimed grannie, as he offered the governess a pot full of beer, "Miss Craddock can't drink out of that pint."
"Nothing," Lee returned non-committally; "I am comfortable." This, he instantly decided, sounded unfair to Fanny, and he substituted happy. Mrs. Craddock obviously was not interested in the change. "I get as tired of this as you do," she asserted abruptly; "it's like being on a merry-go-round someone else started and can't stop. You have no idea how we get to hate the tunes."
Two rods or so from where Morgan waited him, Craddock stopped to look back at the train, now gathering slow headway, and around the deserted platform, down which the station agent came dragging a mail sack. It was when he turned again from this suspicious questioning into things which gave him back no reply, that Craddock recognized the hitherto unsuspected cowboy.
But that was impossible, for there were the pirates clustering in swarms along the port bulwarks, and waving their hats joyously in the air. Most prominent of all was the renegade mate, standing on the foc'sle head, and gesticulating wildly. Craddock looked over the side to see what they were cheering at, and then in a flash he saw how critical was the moment.
Certain distant cousins of this backwoods stock had come into literature as "Pikes" or poor whites in the Far West with Bret Harte and in the Middle West with John Hay and Edward Eggleston; it remained for Charles Egbert Craddock in Tennessee and John Fox in Kentucky to discover the heroic and sentimental qualities of the breed among its highland fastnesses of the Great Smoky and Cumberland Mountains.
Craddock received her mail, two letters addressed to her at the seaside, two forwarded from the city whither they had first come. Of the latter one was a milliner's announcement of removal. The other was in a large envelope, and the address was in a chirography unknown to her. The large envelope contained a smaller one.
"Knock off his leg shackles, then. Better leave the bracelets he's safer with them on." With hammer and chisel the carpenter loosened the irons. "What are you going to do with me?" asked Craddock. "Come on deck and you'll see." The sailor seized him by the arm and dragged him roughly to the foot of the companion.
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